


One Last Call

by saveawallflower



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Depression, M/M, Suicide, break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saveawallflower/pseuds/saveawallflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg broke up a month ago and Mycroft will do anything to escape the pain- anything at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Call

Mycroft jumped higher and higher, punching the air as the bass surged through his body, pulsating in his chest. He knew he looked a sight, with dark circles under his eyes caused by lack of sleep and sweat mingling with eyeliner.

A new song started up and the nightclub erupted in raucous cheers and whistles. Mycroft’s heart sank.

Greg’s favourite song.

He stopped dancing as the sensation returned to his chest; a pain that no amount of bass could drown out. Words tangled themselves and tumbled over each other in his brain:

_“fuck him he just needed to fucking…fuck…shit…I’m don’t need anything from him…f- I don’t know shit what am I even…shit_

_Redbeard._

_JUST STOP._

_Stop fucking caring._

_There was nothing you could do._

_You weren’t ready to tell them. You had to cover it up somehow.”_

Mycroft started to move again, wrapping himself in the crowd in the same way he used his ‘blankie’ when he was a baby; to numb the pain. He raved; he drank; thirty minutes later he was pressed up against the wall, with some guy’s tongue in his mouth.

He hadn’t kissed anyone since…

He felt his eyes prick, and he shoved the enthusiastic teen away before he embarrassed himself further. Rounding the corner to the bathrooms, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Emotions squeezed them from his chest in guttural sobs. He clamped his hand over his mouth, stumbling through a haze of tears.

_Oh god. I miss him so much… no-one else…it wouldn’t even have mattered- NOTHING FUCKING MATTERS I LOST HIM AND HE THINKS I DON’T FUCKING LOVE HIM_

Mycroft slammed the cubicle door shut, hitting the edge of his wrist against the lock in an attempt to shut out all of them: the happy people. The people who hadn’t pushed the person they loved the most away because they were fucking ashamed of who they were.

_I can’t I can’t I can’t_

Mycroft’s fingers fumbled over the dial pad of his phone, tears and alcohol compromising his basic functions. But nothing could make him forget the number.

The hollow ringing echoed in his ears.

_Please pick up. Please. Please. Please. I’m sorry._

**Fuck off. I’m busy. Probably. Or I just hate you. If you’re my mum, you can start listening now. You’ve reached Greg Lestrade. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. Possibly. Bye.**

Mycroft struggled to breathe. This was it.

“Greg. I… Oh God I love you so much and I was such a- such a dick. I don’t care about them anymore. I mean- I never did I only care about you and I want you but you’ll never… you can’t want me you’re too good and I’m- I need to go to hell I need to leave you so you can- I don’t know I don’t know anymore. I’m so sorry, please….please don’t forgive me I don’t deserve it…goodbye…... Goodbye, love.”

Mycroft screamed as he hung up.

Blood pounded through his ears and his brain, numbing his senses. He pulled the pills from his pocket. He’d been carrying them around for weeks, but this was it. This was the end.

    He opened the door and staggered the tap gulping a mouthful of water before beginning to pour them into his mouth. The room spun and Greg’s voice filled his ears. But it wasn’t right. Nothing was right. Greg was crying, calling out for Mycroft. And he sounded sad…so sad. Mycroft tried to find him but the darkness was covering him like tar and he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t-

 

 

“Hello?”

Greg’s voice erupted from the phone: **“Myc? Oh god Myc is that you? Where the fuck are you I’m coming to get you, just hold-“**

“I’m so sorry. This isn’t your friend. He’s…he’s just been found. We called an ambulance but it was too late. If there’s anything we can do…They’re taking the- they’re taking him to St. Bart’s...I’m truly sorry.”


End file.
